The Whelp
by TA Maxwell
Summary: While in port, Bill has a request for his young pirate-in-training friend Jack, but is it a request that Jack can accept? Can he be what Bill wants him to be? (Non-Slash)


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The Whelp

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            With wistful longing, Jack looked out over the shimmering blue ocean. The Black Pearl was still now, harbored at an island for three days. He hated it when he couldn't be out there, surrounded by water, dolphins, and adventure. Of course, there was always one small bit of adventure and excitement wherever he went.

            "Avast, villain!"

            Jack's eyes widened, which was all he had time for as a large force slammed against him. He and his assailant tumbled onto the deck of the Pearl and rolled a moment until Jack was slammed against the hard wood, a knife biting the flesh on his neck.

            "Damn it Bill, I'm unarmed!!"

            Mischievous brown eyes danced as Bill beamed widely.

            "How many bloody times d'I have ta tell ye never go anywhere without at least a knife, whelp?"

            "What are my chances of being attacked on me own ship?! And don't call me whelp." 

            "Ye should know the answer to that, seein' as I'm still around, whelp," Bill chuckled and withdrew the knife from his 17-year-old charge of a pirate-in-the-making. "I'd like to ask a favor of ye, Jack."

            "Let me up and I'll consider it."

            With another chuckle, this one heartier than the last, Bill released his captive. Jack stood, rubbing his head where it had connected to the solid wooden deck. Bill got to his feet beside him.

            "There's somewhere I'd like you to come with me. Someone to meet," Bill's voice held a hint of mystery and personal amusement that Jack couldn't interpret as he usually could when his older friend asked a favor. 

"Who?"

"You'll see. Ye comin'?"

"Aye, aye, bloody bastard," the last part he mumbled under his breath.

"I'd take that seriously if I knew ye didn't mean it," Bill smirked.

"Damn ye to Davey Jones' locker, bilge rat!"

The two pirates descended the plank onto the docks, and Bill began to lead the way off. Jack attempted to pester him on where he was taking him, the possibilities ranging from old aunt to whorehouse (which, in Bill's opinion, he suggested a bit too eagerly, even for a pirate.) The only reply the lad got out of him was the paternal "You'll see." 

The location, Jack discovered, was a house. A large one, in fact. Large and familiar.

"Bill, we were here last year," Jack raised an eyebrow as he remembered what he vaguely could of the building. Their focus had not been the building, though, nor any of the possessions within it. It had been the master of it, the governor, who had previously been intent of stretching the neck of their captain. It was the first time Jack had seen them murder someone, and only one person had raised his voice against it: young Bootstrap Bill. He was chastised for what he said, and beat around by the older pirates. When they left the house, Bill was not with them, a thought that worried Jack, but he returned the next morning to the ship, a melancholy look on his face.  

"Three months short of a year, if ye want to be specific," Bill pushed open the door slowly, and Jack began to wonder even more about the circumstances of this visit. 

"Bill, why-?"

"You'll s-"

A scream cut Bill's statement short. The pirate's eyes widened fearfully, and without a word he turned away from Jack and ran up a nearby staircase.

"Bill?! Aye, Bill, wait up!" Jack stumbled over his feet for a moment, regained himself and followed his friend up the stairs, questions running through his head. The scream had been a woman's, and Bill seemed fairly frightened when he heard it. He was being so bloody secretive about something, and as he reached the top of the stairs, he had not even expected what the truth was. Bill was standing in a doorway, his back to Jack, and visibly shaking.

"Bill? Bootstrap?"

Bill gave no reply to either name. He didn't even look at him. Instead, he walked into the room slowly, almost mechanically. Jack took his place at the door, and his eyes too widened in surprise. The room held three occupants: Bill, a woman lying on a bed breathing softly, and another woman handing something to Bill. Something small…and crying.

"Bloody hell, Bill…why didn't…why didn't ye tell me?" Jack whispered in shock. Bill looked up from the child in his arms. 

"I didn't want it to be getting' around, Jack, me being an old man." The smile on the man's face was one of pure bliss, like that of a child with his favorite toy. 

"You brought a friend, William?" a female voice asked. The woman in the bed was sitting up now, being assisted by the other woman, a midwife. She looked horribly tired.

"Aye, love. I hope you don't mind. He didn't have anything ta do with your father," Bill cradled the baby, and its cries quieted. 

"Then I don't mind," she smiled softly. Jack knew he'd be getting a headache from all these surprises, but at least Bill's actions from the murder were making sense now. Especially the tardiness with returning. Hesitating, he moved over to Bill and peered at the baby in his arms. 

"A boy, then?"

"Aye, sir, eight pounds, I imagine," the midwife answered, running a wet cloth over the new mother's forehead. "Ye arrived just in time."

"I suppose I did," Bill looked back down at the baby. Jack noticed the small face was almost a child-like likeness to the young man who held him, from his chocolate eyes to the few strands of soft brown hair. The baby sneezed, and Jack couldn't help but smile at the small child.

"Have ye thought on a name for him, Emily?" Bill looked back up at the woman.

"I have, and if you'll have it, I wanted to name him after you, William Turner."

"Well then, William Turner it is, Emily Turner!" he announced teasingly.

"When the bloody hell did you get MARRIED?!"

Bill burst into laughter at the youth's outburst, but silenced quickly as the baby William's face contorted with pain and fear at the loud and new sound. Rocking the child in his arms again to stop any sudden tears, the new father resorted to regular speaking level.

"I was late returning to the ship nine months ago with good reason, Jack. I'd have told ye sooner, but we never were within an area where there weren't any others from the ship. I only wanted you to know. I trust ye. And that's why I've asked you to come here."

Jack blinked, clueless as to his friend's meaning as he found the child being handed to him. The midwife hurried over to make sure he held the newborn the right way. He couldn't remove his eyes from the baby, who was busy studying the pirate's own face with wide eyes.

"Jack, I'd like to ask ye to be his godfather."

Had Jack been drinking anything at the moment, the liquid would have covered the pirate father. Instead, the youth resorted to stuttering.

"Y-You want m-me t-to be-to-"

"Deep breaths, whelp, it ain't that shockin', is it?"

"T'hell it isn't! You're thinkin' of returnin' to the Pearl, aren't ye?!"

Bill raised an eyebrow, curious about the new outburst (and wondering how one person could have so many of them.

"Aye, is-"

"I'm not lettin' you, Bill," Jack said stubbornly. "Ye've gotten yerself into a fine mess of responsibility. Ye've got a wife and a son, and damned if I'm lettin' ye leave them behind!"

The father was silent as they exchanged looks. Jack looked more serious than Bill had ever seen him, even if he held his own son in his arms.

"Jack…I have to go back to the Pearl," Bill's voice was filled with regret at the thought. "I don't want to leave, but I can't go from bein' a pirate to being a…a merchant or somethin'. People don't do business with pirates or ex-pirates. I get my share of the treasure, and that's what I'll need to support the family I've made here. I won't be able to get anythin' else to my name but plunder and loot that doesn't belong to me. And if somethin' should happen to me, Jack, I want you to look after my wife and son as I would. "

It was Jack's turn for silence. Everything Bill said was true; no one would work with a pirate. He needed to pay for his family, and pirate gold was all he'd ever get until the day he died. 

"Well…if…it must be that way…" he looked down at the baby in his arms. He yawned widely, cuddled into the blankets and arms that held him, and closed his eyes, a tired little one. "Of course, Bill. I'd not be in me right mind t'turn down an offer like that." A smirk tinged his face. "And if you call me whelp again, I'll not be short of remindin' ye of the one ye've got now." 

And as the baby slept, the father laughed, and the newly proclaimed godfather returned the child to its mother, not one of them imagined how their lives would entangle again in twenty one short years.     

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Everyone aw at the cuteness now! *crickets* Aww c'mon! It's cute! Baby Will! Adorabibble! ……oh, fine, just review, please. ^__^ Disclaimer's in my bio.

~TA Maxwell~ 


End file.
